


This Mission Wasn't Officially Assigned To Us, But We Did It Anyway

by demi_gray



Series: This Mission... [2]
Category: Henry Stickmin Series (Video Games)
Genre: ASL, Dates, First Dates, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Implied Neurodivergent Charles, Kissing, M/M, Mentioned Ellie Rose (Henry Stickmin), Mild Language, Museum Date, Nonbinary Character, Post-Canon, Pride, Selectively Mute Henry Stickmin, Stealing the Diamond, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Triple Threat Ending | TT (Henry Stickmin), characters working out their trauma, compliments, experimenting with they/them henry in this one, henry dreams about other timelines, henry remembers other timelines, henry uses ASL, implied neurodivergent character, implied neurodivergent henry, nonbinary henry stickmin, really long title, they/themry amirite, this fic is much more from charles' perspective (as opposed to henry's last time)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:54:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26644813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demi_gray/pseuds/demi_gray
Summary: After the failed CCC infiltration, and Henry and Charles admitting their feelings for one another, they decide it's time to go on a date.Direct sequel to This Mission Accomplished Something Other Than Intended. Please read that first, as this fic references that one many times!
Relationships: Charles Calvin & Henry Stickmin, Charles Calvin/Henry Stickmin
Series: This Mission... [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1887253
Comments: 3
Kudos: 137





	This Mission Wasn't Officially Assigned To Us, But We Did It Anyway

**Author's Note:**

> threw in some vague appearance headcanons in here, hope y'all arent thrown off  
> sorry this took so long, classes have begun and also my motivation for writing anything tends to be all over the place at the wrong time, but it's here now!! i have a third part planned for the series and probably even a fourth one. stay tuned, and i hope you enjoy!

Charles shifted his weight in the metal diner chair, twiddling his thumbs in his lap.

Well, this was awkward.

“So…” he tried, scratching his cheek. “...read any good books lately?”

Henry, sitting across from him, snorted. “Mm.” They picked up a spoon and tapped it against the table a few times, testing the sounds it made. Charles stared at their actions, then blinked out of it.

“Tough mission, huh,” he said as his second try.

Henry nodded solemnly, putting down the spoon and rubbing their left arm. It’d only been a short week after they’d taken on the fruitless EGG mission, and Henry had figured out where their nightmares had been coming from.

Charles adjusted his headphones, turning up their noise-cancellation. It was already at max settings, and he huffed. The bustle of people walking by and in the diner grated his senses, and didn’t help when his boyfriend was so soft-spoken. He wished it’d all quiet down. “I’m glad we all got out alive.”

“Glad I’m with you,” Henry murmured, although it wasn't exactly a murmur, as even they realized they had to raise their voice no matter how much they didn’t enjoy it.

Charles chuckled, averting his eyes. Both of them would always get blushy and embarrassed when the other unleashed a compliment, no matter how small or when. “Same.”

Henry began to tap their fork now. “Food’s slow.”

“Ugh, you can say that again,” Charles huffed. “I mean, I get that they’re busy and all, but…”

The other picked up the butter knife now, clicking it against their fork and sliding it in-between the prongs. They hummed quietly, tapping their foot idly to the music playing from the outdoor speakers. It was a mainstream song, of course, but was something to focus on and single out from the loudness. Charles often employed this trick as well.

Charles opened his mouth, then closed it. Then he picked up his glass of ice water and sipped. After setting it down, he opened his mouth again. “Can I ask you something?”

Henry’s head lifted and they blinked, tilting their head expectantly, brows raised.

“It’s real cheesy, but, um…” Charles hesitated. “Why do you like me? I just…”

“Want to know,” Henry finished for him, nodding. They considered this question, stabbing at a napkin with their fork. Finally they raised a hand. They kept it flat and laid their fingertips on their chin, then swiped it down twice, curling their fingers in each time. Then they pointed to Charles.

“You’re sweet,” they had signed.

Charles translated the sign in his head, taking a moment to figure it out, then smiled, giddy again. “That it?” he teased, fiddling with his hands.

Henry laughed softly, twirling the fork in their dexterous fingers. “Hmm,” they began. “Smart,” they said, signing it as well. “Fun.” They fingerspelled it.

A beat.

“...handsome.” This one they didn't sign, instead just gesturing to Charles as a whole. Their fork was still in their hand.

Charles giggled. “I'm glad to know.”

Henry smiled back, then placed a hand on their chest, raising a singular eyebrow. “Hm?”

Charles’ grin widened. “Well, let's see,” he mused. “Why do _I_ like _you?_ ” He tapped his chin to add suspense. “You're fearless,” he started with. “But I mean, everyone knows that about you. So…”

Henry crossed their arms.

“I’m getting there!” Charles laughed, waving a hand. “It’s hard to put into words.” He rubbed his thumb. “I mean, you’re pretty handsome too,” he tried. “And, uh, caring? You care about me.”

Henry smiled, looking at Charles lovingly. “I do,” they confirmed quietly, resting their chin on a palm and sighing.

“You’re also...unpredictable? But in a good way,” Charles went on. “Um. You’re strong too.” He paused, a hand wandering towards his face. “You’re, heh, a good kisser.” 

Henry spit out half of the water they were drinking, beet red. “Oh my god,” they scolded, but they were grinning. “You’re terrible”, they signed at him, wiping their mouth dutifully with a napkin. “...but it _is_ true.”

Charles placed his elbows on the table, leaning forward. “Hell yeah it is,” he said.

Henry rolled their eyes; when they decided their face was sufficiently dry, they leaned across the table as well to meet Charles’ lips. The kiss lasted a moment only, as Charles remembered that they were in public and hurriedly withdrew, rubbing his cheeks in a futile attempt to make them less red. Henry was able to play it off a little more casually, but they were still pink in the face.

The two of them were so easily flattered it was ridiculous.

Ah, the perfect match.

Henry idly played with the collar of their polo, Charles staring unintentionally with vague interest. Often they’d watch each other like this, noticing subtle movements and expressions. There was a silent agreement that it was, in fact, not so rude to stare. Not only was it the nature of their minds to hold a gaze, but Charles just figured Henry thought he was real handsome, seeing as it was certainly true the other way around.

Then their food arrived: some basic deli sandwiches, something every cafe usually has. Not that Charles had even gotten coffee, let alone Henry; Charles was more of a soda person, Henry opting for the classic hot chocolate. So much for “getting coffee together.”

Close enough.

Henry was quick to dig into their sandwich, some indecipherable combination of things between bread. Charles had a ham and cheese, and he carefully inspected the sandwich for any evil, scary condiments that may have snuck in. None were there, and he reassembled the thing and began to eat.

Of course it had to be today, now, as they were just getting settled in, that something ridiculous and improbable happened.

A bullet tore its way through Charles’ sandwich, narrowly missing his nonexistent nose and making meat and cheese fly everywhere. Henry set down their own food instantly, wiping their hands off on a napkin with aggravation.

The two of them located the aggressor: a person in the classic robber-mask; they had apparently fired a warning shot that just so happened to hit Charles’ lunch. They were currently holding up the cashier of the cafe; Charles wasn’t sure why, seeing as it wasn’t as if little diners were particularly overflowing with cash.

Whatever.

He looked to Henry, raising a brow. “Your call,” he said.

Henry sighed. “Hmph.” They rose from their seat, brushing their hands on their pants and walking with volition towards the cash register. “Hey,” they called simply, not even flinching when the intruder swung their gun around. They stood with hands on their hips, frowning like a disappointed parent. It helped that they were a lot taller than the robber.

The masked man aimed their gun more pointedly. “I’m kinda busy here, pal,” they said. “Back off and no one gets hurt.”

Henry frowned harder. They pointed to the exit.

A bark of a laugh from the robber. “Sit tight there, then,” they shrugged, sending a malicious glare to the cashier, who hurried her actions of emptying the register. “I’ll be out in a moment.”

It happened so quickly that even Charles, with his trained eyes and the advantage of knowing Henry well, didn’t quite know what he had seen. In an instant the intruder was on the floor, Henry’s foot on their chest and their gun halfway across the floor. Henry looked bored, huffing. They gave the cashier an expectant look, and shakily she picked up the phone to dial.

“Woo,” came the weak, still frightened cheer of an onlooker. It fell short, and Henry kept their gaze on the robber, shrugging.

“You’ve gotten better at that,” Charles complimented when Henry strode back over to sit with him, the robber now gone and off in a police cruiser. “Doing...whatever that was.” He waved a hand awkwardly.

Henry smiled softly, becoming visibly relaxed again. “Thanks,” they signed quickly, a little too busy being bubbly over the compliment to relay any more. They pointedly ignored when the other restaurant denizens stared at them, and Charles waved off anyone who got close. Today wasn’t the day.

“Surprised you actually went through with upholding the law,” Charles joked. “You didn’t even st--”

Henry held up a hand, silencing the other. They quietly slipped something from under the table to the top, sliding it towards Charles.

It was a wristwatch.

“Oh, you little…” Charles grumbled, but he was holding back a smile. “And who did that come off of?”

“Does it matter?” Henry asked, stowing the watch back away in one of their pockets.

“You’re lucky I’m not a snitch,” Charles laughed. “I’ll give you that one. Dunno about in the future…”

“Mean,” Henry signed, but they were grinning. They took a glance at Charles’ totally decimated sandwich and then sighed, knowing the picky eater wouldn’t even _touch_ the other’s. So much for that.

“I’ll take some of the bread,” Charles offered weakly, smiling.

A light, amused breath left Henry, and they shook their head. “I’m done with this place,” they signed.

Charles nodded. “Yeah. It, uh, kinda got ruined, didn’t it? Wait here a sec, Hen’.” He stood, giving Henry a last glance (they were blushing slightly at the moniker) before walking to the register to pay and give condolences. Henry sat clinking their utensils together, humming.

They left the cafe without many words to each other, an agreement that they needed some quiet after the addition of a robbery to the already-loud experience. While getting out of the barracks was good, there was always so much going on. Charles preferred to keep that type of excitement saved up for missions and things he actually _wanted_ to do. Henry most likely thought the same, although they were more likely to make their own adventure no matter where they were.

Charles reached over and took Henry’s hand, their left one, and they flinched; they didn't usually react this way, but both were still shaken, and Henry often spoke or signed about their arm being numb and some sort of equivalent to phantom pains. Apparently having your arm turned into metal for an hour didn’t do well for the body. Charles would sweep the two of them up under a blanket when they had these “episodes,” and they would snuggle it out.

Henry was always hesitant to do so. Hand-holding and the occasional hug were fine but them, but they were still resistant to other touch, especially when it came to Charles, for some reason. But they were also clearly touch- _starved_ , so Charles let them decide if they would be under the same blanket or not.

Usually they’d decide to, since Charles made it pretty clear he didn’t mind.

Charles shifted his grip of Henry’s hand, rubbing his thumb reassuringly on theirs for a moment. He heard them sigh, and he smiled. They’d quickly relaxed, and Charles reveled in yet another tiny success.

Baby steps.

“They fixed up the museum, you know,” Charles ventured, and Henry perked up. “The one you, uh, stole the diamond from. Wherever _that_ might be...”

Henry shrugged innocently.

“Uh-huh. They have a new exhibit in its place, something about bugs.” Charles raised a brow at his boyfriend. “Wanna check it out?”

Henry did not respond for a moment, but it was clear they were pondering the suggestion. “Do you think I’d be allowed back in?” they signed.

“Don’t they think the Toppats stole the gems?” Charles asked. “It’s been a long time anyway; I doubt they’d recognize you.”

“So we be a little sneaky for a museum date?”

“Well…” Charles averted his gaze. He was loyal to the government, but it wasn’t like he hadn't broken a few rules in the past, especially when it came to Henry. And Henry had changed, right? Sure, the petty theft was still a habit, but Henry was a good person. Also, Charles wanted to go to a museum with them. Was that too much to ask? “...yes?”

Henry giggled. “I won’t steal anything.”

“I notice you did _not_ promise,” Charles countered, feigning a pouty, motherly sort of anger.

“I’m only into the shiny stuff, Charles,” Henry assured him. “Not rocks. Or bugs.”

Charles glared.

Henry sighed. “I promise,” they let him know, holding out their free hand. The two of them interlocked pinky-fingers in a childish but unbreakable agreement. “I will not steal from the museum.”

“Good!”

* * *

The exhibits weren’t all that much to drool over, in Henry’s opinion. Anything interesting had been swiped by them a long time ago; none of the paintings had even been replaced, they noticed, signing passively.

“You took _all_ the paintings in the museum _while_ you were sneaking in for the diamond??” Charles hissed, more incredulous than angry. When Henry nodded, Charles couldn't do anything but shake his head. Sure, he wasn't surprised that Henry had _wanted_ to do something like that, but he was shocked that they’d actually succeeded.

No doubt the paintings themselves were forever lost, either misplaced by Henry or sold by them or even stolen again.

Charles was almost sad when he didn’t really care about it. Maybe he wasn't as much of an art connoisseur as he’d thought himself to be. Still, the museum was a calmer place, and allowed the partners to rest their eyes and ears.

Henry was vaguely intrigued by the medieval exhibit, examining the weapons. Charles was more of a gun guy, while Henry could pick up and master almost anything with ease. It's what made them such a good thief, Charles realized, to be able to innovate so well with what's sitting around.

Charles was pulled back from his thoughts when he saw Henry holding something shiny. “Henry,” he began with a disappointed tone, but Henry turned and hurriedly shook their head.

“Someone...dropped it,” they signed. “It's not the museum’s.”

Charles squinted. “You're bending the rules, mister.”

Henry scowled, looking back down at their find. It was a flat, round pin, the decorative type. From where Charles stood only the backside was visible, and then Henry flipped it over. On the side with the decal was a pride flag pattern with “THEY | THEM” printed across it.

“Lucky find, huh,” Charles mused, but Henry just looked...wait, did they look _guilty??_ “Uh…”

Charles watched as Henry turned away, walking quickly towards three security guards leaning against the wall and chatting. They caught the attention of the blonde one and held up the pin, signing “Yours?”

The guard seemed thankful, nodding and gratefully taking the pin. Henry gave them a thumbs-up and retreated back to Charles, sighing.

“Now what was that all about?” the pilot asked.

Henry hesitated, embarrassed. “Swiped it without looking,” they signed finally. “I didn't know it was a pronoun pin.”

“Oh,” said Charles quietly, giving some Henry some polite silence before saying lightly, “Well, that's what you get for pickpocketing, idiot,” and nudging Henry with his elbow.

Henry rolled their eyes, shoulders relaxing. They took Charles’ hand again and gestured to the far door. A sign showed that the Retro Room and the Rotating Exhibit Hall were in that direction, and Charles smiled in agreement.

Outside the medieval hallway was a small transitional space with pillars and posters on the walls. Henry glanced at the open archway to the larger exhibitional room, but then there was a frown on their face and they turned towards the Retro Room. Charles noticed their face journey, but did not comment.

Maybe part of them regretted taking the diamond?

. _..no_ , Charles thought. _No way that could be it_. There were many other reasons for a frown. Maybe it was the bugs.

Henry gazed aimlessly into the jellylike surface of a creature in a tank simply labeled “alien” for several minutes until Charles squeezed their hand. They looked to him with a small smile. “Are you okay?” Charles asked them.

Henry’s smile wavered, and they exhaled, looking down. “...I’m good enough,” they signed finally. “Tired still.”

“We can leave now, if you want…”

Hurriedly Henry shook their head. “This is fun,” they assured him. “Just hanging out with you.”

Charles looked them in the eyes for a moment, then decided not to press further, nodding. “A stickup in a cafe can kind of kill the mood for anything,” he said. He looked quietly at the alien with Henry. They shared _this_ silence _together_ , from the same perspective: though time had passed, they were still shaken. Then again, it really hadn’t been too long.

_Don’t rush it, Charles._

But spending time together was helping. The confession and subsequent intimacies of their relationship was helping. They didn’t have to do this alone.

Charles thought briefly of Ellie. She had endured the least pain during the mission despite getting shot in the leg, sure, but he knew that her clever eyes had long since figured out that everyone was tired. She didn’t _quite_ understand exactly what had happened with Henry at the time, and frankly, Charles figured Henry didn’t either, but she had the benefit of not being as directly invested as Charles was.

_Pros and cons, Charles. Pros and cons._

Charles made a mental note to talk to Ellie, to see if she was doing okay. He didn’t want her to become the third wheel, and suffering was not a competition.

Henry pointed out an ocarina placed in a display case. “I play,” they brought up from nowhere.

Charles was instantly intrigued. “Really? Not a common instrument.” Henry shrugged. Charles squinted. “You better not demonstrate right now.”

Henry made a show of looking highly offended, gasping.

“You can play something for me later,” Charles laughed, amused at the thief’s over-the-top acting. Everything about them was endearing, and Charles was surprised to realize for the first time that Henry had dimples. How cute.

Charles smiled back at Henry.

Clearly there was still a lot to learn.


End file.
